Hunter's Jewel
by Miriel Amarian
Summary: Little was known of Feanor's third son. Now, his story, and that of his lady, will be told in full.
1. Hunter and Healer

"Mireloth! Over here, quickly!"  
Mireloth looked up from the warrior whose leg she was bandaging. It was an ugly wound, deep into the muscle. With the herbs, however, it should heal. Mireloth looked back at the soldier. "Can you finish this yourself?" she asked. The warrior nodded and picked up where Mireloth left off. The situation at the healing camp could best be described as chaotic. There were too many wounded, and far too few healers. Even inexperienced healers like Mireloth were pressed into service. Mainly she worked on minor wounds, or assisted another healer. In the worst cases, she offered comfort to the dying.   
Mireloth walked as quickly as she could to Avarion, the one who summoned her. Avarion was more or less Mireloth's teacher in the healing arts. She tried to stay close to Avarion, especially in this unfamiliar place. "Mireloth, hold this closed while I try to put it back together," Avarion said. The soldier was lucky; the spear had not hit anything vital. With Avarion's healing skill, he would live. Still, Avarion needed another set of hands to hold the wound closed while he stitched it. When he was done, Mireloth signaled for another healer to take the warrior away. "Do you need anything, Avarion?" she asked when they had a spare moment.  
"Aside from a good night's rest and a bottle of miruvor? I suppose I could use more herbs. Would you mind filling this jar from the main store?"   
"Not at all."  
Avarion handed Mireloth a large jar. As she was heading for the herb storage, she noticed a group of warriors, just standing around. One of them was bleeding from a gash in his arm. Mireloth went up to him and asked if he saw a healer yet. He said he had not, his wound was little. "Then you are a fool," Mireloth snapped, and hurried off to get the herbs. If he was foolish enough to not seek treatment, she thought, then he deserved to lose his arm.

              
            Celegorm was surprised how badly the battle had gone.  Both Elves and Men had been driven back by the sheer numbers of orcs.  Now all Celegorm wanted to do was find his brothers.  He was lucky; he had not been injured, and hoped it was the same for his brothers.  He found the twins easily enough.  All he had to do was look for two heads of red hair within three feet of each other.  To Celegorm's relief, neither appeared hurt.  Amras and Amrod led his to where the rest of the brothers were.  "How is everyone?" Maedhros asked.

"As good as can be expected, seeing how we were driven from the field," muttered Caranthir.

"At least we all came out of it unscathed."

"Speak for yourself, Maedhros," a third voice added. 

Maglor joined the group.  The rest were quick to notice that he was bleeding heavily from a deep gash on his upper arm.  The brothers began talking amongst themselves, noticing little else.  A younger healer approached Maglor and inquired whether he had seen a healer about his arm.  "No, lady.  It is too little to bother with," Maglor replied.  The girl surprised all of the brothers by snapping at Maglor.  Celegorm wanted to shake the girl for her impudence, but Maglor held him back.  Celegorm watched the girl leave, her tangled black braids swinging.  "She should not have spoken to you, a Son of Feanor, like that, Maglor," said Celegorm, with more than an edge of anger in his voice. 

"Do not fault her, Celegorm.  The healers are under more pressure than all of the soldiers.  And she's probably right; I should get this looked at," replied Maglor. 

Celegorm was still seething.  No one should speak to a Son of Feanor in that way.  He resolved to find the impudent young healer and teach her a lesson in manners.


	2. Confrontation

"Here, Avarion.  I tried to get a little bit of everything."  Mireloth's voice seemed to shake Avarion out of whatever dream-state he was in.  Her weariness was magnified tenfold in his face.  "You had best get used to this feeling, Mireloth," said Avarion," because it will be a great many years before this misery ends, if it ever does." 

            Mireloth brooded over Avarion's statement.  He rarely talked like that to anyone.  Both heard a discreet cough at the tent opening.  Mireloth was surprised to see that it was the warrior that she had barked at earlier.  Avarion roused himself first to check on the injury.  The warrior was lucky, at least to a healer's thinking.  He only needed bandages and an herb salve that would help the flesh knit.  As the warrior rose to leave, he turned to regard Mireloth.  "Thank you, lady, for your words earlier.  However, take care of whom you say them near.  Not all would take them as well as I did," he said before leaving.  Avarion regarded Mireloth with more than a hint of worry.  When she explained fully what had happened, his worry only grew.  When Mireloth was finished explaining, Avarion said, "He was right to warn you, if not about him, than about his brothers.  That warrior was Maglor, second son of Feanor.  Lucky for you, he is said to have the gentlest temper of the seven."

"I did not mean to bark at him so.  You know how I get my nerves become strained," Mireloth replied with a sigh.

 "But they do not.  You should fear Feanor's third and fourth sons.  Those two are unpredictable at best, and capable of murder at worst.  Believe me, I know."

"We have more pressing concerns now than the idle anger of a Noldor prince.  Like this."

            Another warrior was carried in.  He was no worse off than the rest, but far more nervous.  Mireloth guessed this was his first battle.  She asked him how he managed to get his shoulder gnawed to the bone, mainly to keep him still while Avarion worked on the rest of him.  The warrior laughed and said he had "disarmed" an orc, which promptly began to chew on his shoulder.  "And I thought I had seen it all," said Mireloth with a shake of her head.  The soldier took her jest in good humor, and was able to hobble out of the tent when Avarion finished with him.  Before either Elda had a chance to relax, another healer came in a panic, telling Avarion he was needed immediately.  He left, trusting that Mireloth could handle herself.  She noticed someone standing just inside the tent entrance.  Why did he seem oddly familiar?  He didn't seem hurt, and kept staring at Mireloth with a mixture of anger and curiosity.  He certainly wasn't hard on the eyes, either, but why was he just standing there? 

            Celegorm waited patiently just inside the tent for the healers to finish.  He did not feel right interrupting their work.  He studied the girl who had spoken so rashly to Maglor.  She was unkempt and dirty for a long day's work, but certainly not unattractive.  Her youth must be the cause of her rashness, Celegorm decided.  She would only need a gentle reminder of her place in the world.  He waited until the other healer was called away before he acted.  He noted, with pleasure, the spark of fear in the girl's eyes when his hand closed on her wrist.  Good, he thought, let her be frightened.  He managed to keep his tone even when he addressed the girl.  "I do not take insults to myself, or to my brothers, lightly.  You would do well to remember that in the future, young one."

"Forgive me, my lord.  I did not mean to speak that way," she replied.

This "apology" was not enough for Celegorm.  He tightened his grip one the girl's wrist to keep her from pulling away.  Her gasp of pain was oddly satisfying to Celegorm.  He wrenched the girl closer to him so he could whisper into her ear.  "You _will_ learn your place with me.  Must I resort to stronger measures?"  Celegorm kept his voice soft, almost intimate, but there was no mistaking his meaning.  The fear in his captive's eyes grew into terror.  Celegorm resisted the urge to laugh at her fear.  What Celegorm failed to notice was the girl's free hand reaching for something.  The next thing he knew, he was lying on the ground, feeling like a horse had kicked him in the head.  He looked around, dazed.  Celegorm noticed broken pieces of pottery near him.  "_She hit me with a jar?" _he thought.   He was still reeling when the other healer returned.  He surveyed the scene, and shouted at Celegorm, "Leave, now!"  Celegorm raced out of the healing tent as quickly as his now-impaired balance would allow.  His thoughts were as scattered at the pieces of the jar the girl hit him with.  _"She needed a lesson…such a pretty one…bested with a clay jar…" _All these thoughts were whirling though Celegorm's head.  He would remember this maiden, for greater reason than her impudence, now.


	3. Lost

            Mireloth had never been more grateful to see Avarion in all her life.  After he had driven the insane Elf out of the tent, he immediately tended to Mireloth.  Her wrist was darkly bruised and a little swollen.  Avarion wrapped her wrist in cool cloths to ease the pain.  Mireloth was too shocked to do much more than sit on the patient bed.  Then she noticed something glitter just inside the tent entrance.  A knife?  Mireloth went over and picked it up.  It was certainly a beautiful creation, as lovely as it was deadly.  The blade itself was nearly a foot long, with ivory and silver laid into the handle.  Mireloth read the inscription on the blade: _May this blade bring luck to the Lord Celegorm's hunt_.  She shuddered at the name.  Wasn't Celegorm the one Avarion had warned her about?  Mireloth had no desire to see that one again.  But, in her heart, she knew that she would.  A hunter was not likely to take the loss of his blade well_.  Especially since I'm the one who caused him to lose it_, Mireloth thought.  The blade probably slid out of the sheath when she struck Celegorm.  "Mireloth?  May I see your wrist?"  She didn't notice Avarion regarding her again.  She nodded, and Avarion carefully unwrapped her wrist, trying not to cause any more pain.  Mireloth had always marveled how gentle Avarion was, with her or a random soldier.  She did love him, but her love was as a daughter to a father.  She knew that Avarion was married, with two delightful children.  She also knew that Avarion felt the same way.  Mireloth was too young for him in any case, having just attained her majority two years before.  Her thoughts went back to her newly acquired knife.  To return it or to keep it, that was the question?  Mireloth decided she would think about it when she could keep her thoughts in better order.

            Celegorm was still not entirely sure what had just happened.  The best he remembered, he had gone to teach a young healer a lesson in manners, and the wench had broken a jar over his head.  Celegorm walked back to the place where he and his brothers were staying in order to collect his thoughts.  Maedhros noticed the sizeable lump on his head the moment he walked in, and quickly guessed what happened.  "You went after that young healer, didn't you?" he asked.

"Why?  Is it that obvious, dear brother?" Celgorm answered sarcastically.

"You threatened her, she got frightened, and she struck you.  Am I correct?"

"Yes."

"Well, I can't say that you did not deserve it, Celegorm." 

"Oh, just shut up."

"Celegorm, please heed some advice from one older and more experienced.  Ladies of any race do not like being threatened.  Be more gentle in your advances; they tend to respond better."

            Celegorm did not have the faintest idea what his brother was talking about.  Advances?  Maedhros made it sound as if Celegorm desired to wed the girl.  Not that she would accept him.  Celegorm reached for his hunting blade, as he often toyed with is when he needed distraction.  Why was it not in its sheath?  Gone?  Celegorm had a suspicion as to where the blade was.  He sighed.  This would mean confronting that girl again.  _Hmm, perhaps it need not be a bad thing_, he thought.  Few had ever bested him before.  True, the girl had only grabbed the closest thing to her and hit him with it.  Celegorm found himself in the middle of one of his famous mood swings.  He went from discomfort at seeing the girl again to intrigue. Perhaps she could be a distraction in place of his lost blade.


	4. Melting Fear

            Mireloth decided to keep the blade for herself.  She rather liked the piece, even with all the bad associations she now had with it.  Not that she could really think about it right now.  Mireloth had enough to deal with. Wounded soldiers were again pouring in, many with horrible burns. Reports were coming in of huge, fire spewing reptiles on the battlefield. The only ones who seemed able to withstand them were the dwarves. Rumor was that several higher-ranking Eldar were also hurt. Some felt that the Noldor deserved whatever misery they were dealt. Were they not the ones who began this whole war? Mireloth was kept from dwelling on such thoughts, however, by the steady stream of wounded that kept coming in.   
Things had been going smoothly until Mireloth found her work interrupted yet again. She was asked to help in the recovery tent. Mireloth had some reservations about leaving Avarion alone with such a workload. "Don't worry, Mireloth, I will be fine on my own," he said cheerily. Sighing, Mireloth followed the other healer to the recovery tent. She found that it was not really a tent, just a very long canopy. There were over one hundred beds in each canopy, and space was tight. "Lass, you are in charge of these twenty beds. Anything they need: food, water, bandage change, you must attend to it. Do you understand?" the elder healer asked impatiently. Mireloth nodded and began her new duties.  
Mireloth soon found that this was far harder than her original job. Even the mere twenty beds she was assigned seemed too much. The recovering patients, to their credit, tried not to tax the healers too much, calling on them only if their need was great. Mireloth found herself most frequently giving water or changing bandages. To make the job more agreeable, she tried to learn the patients' names. At the very least, it made the rounds pass faster if one could make conversation. Still, it was difficult to get to know anyone well, as most of the wounded were able to leave within days. Some of the soldiers, however, were truly amusing. "My wife doesn't know I went into battle," said one, "she thinks I'm visiting my sister. If she finds about this, she's going to finish what the orc started." Several other warriors shared a chuckle at this, and at the other common fear of "my mother is going to pitch a fit when she learns of this."  
All told, it was rewarding, but exhausting work. The moment a bed went vacant, it was filled again. One Noldo came in with a painful burn from hand to neck. He seemed intensely worried about something. Mireloth tried to make conversation with him as she massaged burn ointment onto his arm. "How did you manage this?" she asked.  
"A dragon. It must not have appreciated my attempt to poke it with a spear," the Noldo replied.  
"You're lucky you survived a full blast from one of those things."  
"I'm a smith, lass. I rather enjoy intense heat. However, I am worried about my brothers. Maglor's arm is already injured, and I'm not sure Celegorm has entirely recovered from that blow from an earthen jar."  
Mireloth went pale when he mentioned Celegorm. This Noldo must be one of his brothers. The Noldo noticed her reaction. "Are you all right?" he asked, "You act as if you were the one…" Then comprehension dawned on him. "You are the one, aren't you?"  
"Yes," Mireloth whispered, " and I suppose he still wishes to do me harm, am I right?"  
"From the look of it, he already has," replied the Noldo, indicating Mireloth's wrist. "Honestly, I don't think he will attempt further harm on you, not after you rearranged things in his brain. In fact, I'd like to thank you for doing so. He has been rather insufferable lately."  
Mireloth managed a weak smile at this. "Ah, forgive me, lady," he continued, "where are my manners? I am Curufin, fifth son of Feanor. What would your name be?"  
"Mireloth."  
"Gem flower. Very fitting for one such as you."  
Mireloth was curious what he meant by that. But then she was called over by another soldier, who needed water. As she walked over to him, she was nearly knocked over by a rush of Noldor. All five of them went to Curufin's bed. She sighed, for then nearly upset the jar of water she was holding. As she poured the water for the soldier, she noticed Maglor trying to catch her eye. She smiled and politely lowered her head. To her surprise, Maglor did the same. Then she went back to her rounds. She saw that another Noldo had entered the tent and was now kneeling by Curufin's bed, but paid it little mind, as she was concentrating on tending to the wounded. Then she heard Curufin call her name. She dutifully went over to his bed. Curufin introduced all of his brothers to Mireloth, who was more than a little unnerved by the way Curufin's brothers were looking at her. The one that was kneeling turned to face her. To Mireloth's horror, it was Celegorm. He rose up and regarded her with some interest. Mireloth tried to back away from him, but one of the twins placed his arm against her lower back to prevent her from leaving.

                Celegorm was in a panic.  Not only could he not find any of his brothers, but he also heard that Curufin was gravely injured.  He rushed to every recovery tent he could find before locating his brothers.  Again, the twin's copper hair was what led him to that particular tent.  Celegorm all but jumped on his brother's bed in his joy to see him.  Only Curufin's wince of pain stopped him from doing so.  Instead, Celegorm knelt by his bedside.  "Does it hurt?" Celegorm asked, kicking himself for the stupidity of the question.

"It did, until the healer put some ointment on it.  Now it's just numb," Curufin replied.

"Well, next time, don't try to stick a dragon while standing in front of it.  We'd hate to scorch that fair face of yours, dear brother."

"I'll try to remember that.  Would you like to meet my healer?  Though, I daresay you already know her, Celegorm.  Mireloth!  Would you mind coming here for a moment?"

            The girl came obediently forward, and Curufin proceeded to introduce the brothers to her.  She did not appear overly uncomfortable until Celegorm turned around to look at her.  She tried to back away as he scrutinized her more closely, but Amras placed a hand behind her back and winked at her.  She was petite by Elven standards, for Celegorm stood almost a full head taller than her.  Celegorm noticed that she kept her eyes fixed on the ground as he approached her.  _This may be harder than I thought_, he sighed to himself.  "Lady Mireloth?  You need not keep your eyes averted; we will not harm you," Celegorm said, trying to make his tone more gentle than normal.  "Forgive me, my lord, but I feel I have reason to fear you," she replied, a tremor evident in her voice.  Celegorm gave it another try.  He reached for Mireloth's hand, to take it in friendship.  This only caused her to break out of Amras' grip, to the surprise of both.  "Forgive me," she said, "I must get back to my patients."  She hurried off to give water to any that asked for it, and to some that didn't.  All noticed that she took pains to avoid Curufin's bed.  "Why are you surprised, brother?" Curufin asked, "Did you think she would just stay near you?"

"I had hoped she would," Celegorm replied. 

"Do you have any idea what you look like when you are angry?  When you first confronted the girl, she probably thought you were going to slit her throat."

"And she should know that none of us would raise a weapon against a lady."

"And yet you have, Celegorm.  None of us will forget your actions at the Swan Havens."

            Celegorm thought that Curufin was cruel to mention the incident.  "I don't need you to remind me of that, Curufin," he said bluntly.  Curufin's statement only made Celegorm more determined to atone for his foolish deeds, both with the girl at Alqualonde and with Mireloth.  He would wait until the end of her shift, at twilight, then he would attempt to speak with her in private.  Not to mention that Celegorm rather wanted his hunting knife back.

            Twilight came almost too slowly to bear.  Celegorm waited outside the tent where he had first seen Mireloth.  He wondered now if there was any point to his waiting.  Mireloth's opinion of him could not have improved much in the past few hours.  He also wondered why he was waiting in the first place.  What was it his eldest brother had said about "advances"?  Celegorm laughed softly to himself.  Maedhros knew the brothers better than any of them would care to admit.  He knew that the twins were pranksters, but never malicious.  When Maglor sat on the floor, staring into space, Maedhros knew he was composing something.  He knew that Celegorm's temper and sometimes violent mood swings limited social life outside of his family.  Celegorm sighed and reached for his knife, a nervous habit he had developed some years before.  He realized it was still gone when his hand hit empty leather instead of ivory.  "Is this what you were looking for, my lord?" asked a quiet voice behind him.  Celegorm whirled around to see Mireloth standing behind him.  She had his knife in her outstretched hand.  "Ah, yes.  Thank you, Mireloth," Celegorm replied, accepting the knife.  She tried to go into the tent where Avarion waited, but Celegorm stopped her.  "Would you stay for a time?  I would like to speak with you."

"If my lord desires, then I will obey," she said softly, looking at the ground.

Celegorm accepted that.  He took Mireloth's uninjured hand in his own.  "I would ask your forgiveness for my actions earlier.  You were only trying to help."  She didn't reply to him.  Dismay began to set in.  "You fear me," Celegorm sighed.

"Should I not?" was her only reply.

"No.  I will not raise a sword against a lady."

"You do not need a sword to cause harm, my lord."

"Nor do you, lass.  You taught me that lesson well enough."

            Celegorm was rewarded for his weak attempt at a joke with a small smile from Mireloth.  He lifted her face up, so he could better see her face.  A pair of ice-blue eyes fearfully returned his gaze.  "I do not wish you to call me 'lord'.  Call me by my name, Mireloth," he said, keeping her eyes focused on his.

"Yes, my lor… Celegorm," she stammered.

"Good.  I would also ask that you take a meal with my brothers and I tomorrow.  I would like to thank you for healing both Maglor and Curufin."

            Mireloth seemed unsure what to make of this.  First Celegorm had threatened her life, now he was asking that she share a meal with his brothers?  Confusion dominated her features for once, rather than fear.  After a long while, she nodded her agreement.  Mireloth backed away then, motioning that she had to get back to the healing tent.  Before entering, she looked back at Celegorm and, with a look of almost childish delight and embarrassment, smiled.  Then she disappeared.  _Valar_, thought Celegorm, _she is_ _radiant when she smiles_. 


	5. Mixed Feelings

Hunter's Jewel    Chapter 5

            Avarion was quick to notice Mireloth's mood when she re-entered his tent.  She looked weary, but at the same time elated.  He was even more surprised when Mireloth, out of the clear blue sky, embraced him.  "What are you so happy about, Mireloth?" he asked. 

"I was asked to dinner," she replied, humming a lively tune all the while.

"By whom, if I may be so bold as to ask?"

"Lord Celegorm."

            Avarion was stunned.  "You are happy about this?  He attacked you not too long ago, Mireloth."

"It's not as if I have ever been asked to dinner before, Avarion."

            Mireloth saw Avarion shake his head in shock and amusement, but paid it little mind.  She looked through her tiny trunk to find which dress of hers was cleanest.  She found the light blue dress had the fewest bloodstains.  It wasn't her favorite, but it would do.  She laid the dress aside carefully, and went back to helping Avarion.  This amounted to cleaning up the royal mess he always left behind after a day's work.  Empty spools were discarded, bandages put away, and various metal objects were placed in cheap miruvor, the only available disinfectant.  "Avarion, it would help if you kept this place a little neater," Mireloth grumbled.

"Mireloth, my dear, when you have children of your own, you will find that neatness is unnecessary," laughed Avarion.

"What makes you think I will ever have children?"

"You will.  I know how far away marriage seems to one so young, but it will happen."

            Avarion settled down and poured them both a glass of wine.  When Avarion inquired about her first day in the recovery tent, Mireloth replied that it was rewarding, but exhausting.  Avarion did not seem surprised, and told her they would only keep her there for four more days.  It took its toll even on experienced healers.  Mireloth silently thanked the Valar for this relief.

            The next day was just as frantic for Mireloth as the first.  She didn't get to stand still for more than five minutes at a stretch.  What few breaks she had she spent with Curufin.  "You will be joining us for dinner tonight, Mireloth?" he asked on one of her short breaks.

"Yes, my lord Curufin, your brother was generous enough to invite me.  But, if I may ask, why did he do so?  I thought me had more mind to flay me alive," Mireloth replied. 

"He did.  That's what is strange about Celegorm; he can be perfectly content one moment, then fly into a murderous rage the next.  Even Maedhros cannot predict him all of the time."

"Should I be frightened of this, ah, unpredictability?"

"No.  You've already earned his respect, Mireloth."

            Mireloth was puzzled by this revelation.  How could she have earned his respect when all she did was hit him with a clay jar?  And that was after he attacked her.  _An animal has that kind of courage_, she thought.  She thought about her situation until her next reasonable break came.  She started over to Curufin's bed, only to see that he was already gone.  Another soldier was in his place.  She walked over to him to see if he needed anything, but found that this one would not be asking for anything soon.  He was unconscious.  Mireloth instead went to tend to the other nineteen who were clamoring for one thing or another.  She barely noticed when the next healer came to take over.  Mireloth numbly handed her water pitcher to her successor and left the recovery tent.  When she was finally able to drag herself to Avarion's tent, she promptly flopped down on a chair and put her head in her hands.  Avarion looked at her with a raised eyebrow.  "Tired, are we?" he asked.

"Only a _little_, Avarion," Mireloth replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

"Good.  Then I trust you are ready for your little outing tonight?  He will be here in less than an hour."

            Less than an hour?  Mireloth leaped up, grabbed her blue dress, and hurriedly changed her clothes.  She trusted Avarion to grant her some privacy by not turning around.  Next she put on her only necklace, a seashell on a light silver chain.  Mireloth worried about her dress.  It was low and tight across the front, a relic of her earlier years, when her dress and attitude were less restrained.  She pulled it up as high as she could without compromising the length.  _Better_, she thought.  Next came the matter of her unruly hair.  She easily undid the braids, but untangling was another matter.  After she finished fighting her own hair a quarter hour later, she looked for something that resembled a comb.  Mireloth did find something, she didn't know what, exactly, but it would do.  Her hair now fell to the middle of her back, a little wavy from being tied up in braids for so long.  She looked herself up and down, thinking she was ready.  "Mireloth?"

She turned to face Avarion, who continued, "Would you like me to lace up the back of your dress?"  Mireloth glanced behind herself with horror.  She felt Avarion gently work the laces up the back of her dress.  While he was working, Mireloth questioned Celegorm's motives once again.  What was this meant to be: atonement, apology, or something more.  She hadn't missed the way Celegorm looked at her after she tacitly accepted his invitation.  _Eldarin lords_, she sighed to herself, _so disarmingly handsome, but so vexingly complicated!_

            Celegorm was elated.  He had fully expected Mireloth to run away screaming at his offer.  He regained his surface composure, and made his way back to his brothers' tent.  Celegorm was not surprised to see Maedhros poring over several maps.  His eldest brother didn't even look up when he said, "Well?"

"Tell the servants to set another place at dinner tomorrow," replied Celegorm. 

Maedhros regarded his brother with an arched eyebrow.  "I certainly hope you didn't threaten her again, Celegorm."

"I learned my lesson from the last time I tried.  What are those maps, Maedhros?"

"Plans.  We will renew the assault in four days.  The soldiers need a chance to recover."

"Have you spoken to King Fingolfin about this?"

"Yes.  He agrees fully with my plans.  I only hope we can defeat Morgoth fully this time."  Maedhros sat back down, and looked at his brother with sadness.  "I never imagined all this bloodshed would come from three simple jewels."

"You regret all of this, my brother?"

"I think you know the answer to that, Celegorm.  You, however, have more pressing concerns.  Like looking presentable tomorrow.  And, do watch out for Maglor.  I think he's sitting on the floor somewhere."

            Celegorm barely heard the last thing his brother said.  He was already starting for his chest in the next part of the tent.  Rather than go through the contents carefully, he just upended the whole thing on the ground.  What was once neatly folded lie in a jumble on the dirt floor.  Sifting through the mess, he found a pair of black breeches and a tunic the shade of dark sapphire.  Unlike the rest of his clothes, which he just rammed back into the trunk, he laid these two objects neatly on a chair.  Only then did Celegorm notice the twins eying him with some interest.  "Well, well, for once, Celegorm the Fair actually takes an interest in what he wears," joked Amrod. 

"Don't even think about it, both of you.  I know what you are planning," growled Celegorm.

"What could we possibly be planning for your lovely outfit, brother?" asked Amras innocently.

"I've lived with you two for too long not to expect something.  Perhaps the tunic will mysteriously 'vanish', or there will be an interesting 'pattern' sewn on the breeches.  I don't know, and I don't care; leave them alone."

"Celegorm, you're so tense now that someone could use you as a bowstring.  Go out; take a walk, or something.  Rest assured, nothing will happen to your precious ensemble," laughed Amrod. 

            Somehow, Celegorm was not comforted by the twins' promise.  He shot a final glare at both Amras and Amrod, and went back outside.  He walked until he found a relatively quiet place, and eased himself to the ground.  Night was always his favorite, because the darkness hid so much.  It could hide the look of misery on someone's face, a lover's tryst, or blood spilled on a pale dress.  He lifted his gaze to the stars, a poor consolation for what they had lost.  All for those silly jewels.  _How many have I already killed_, Celegorm wondered, _and how many more lives will I take before this Oath is banished?  _If he ever repeated his foolish actions from Alqualonde, well, Celegorm told himself that he would sheath his hunting knife in his heart before he did so again.  He had threatened Mireloth out of anger and pride, but never again would he raise a blade against any lady, of any race.  In Celegorm's mind, no action committed was more shameful than that. 

            When Celegorm got the strength to return to his brothers' tent, he wanted to be alone again.  Surely all of them would try to lighten his mood before dinner.  None would succeed.  It was near sunset; and he would soon have to escort Mireloth to the company of his brothers.  He put on his breeches and tunic, and attempted to clean his grime- encrusted boots.  All the while he wondered if there was any purpose to his preparations.  Mireloth had probably only accepted out of fear, and how could he blame the girl?  Bitterness eclipsed all previous joy.  Celegorm knew he would never find anything he sought in Arda.  He could nearly taste the bitterness at his last thought: _What hope is there for a Kinslayer? _

A/N:  Please forgive me for the terrible delay.  This chapter surprised me by being the most problematic of all.  I wanted to go more into depth about Celegorm's situation, and I truly hope I have succeeded.  Thanks to all who have encouraged me so far, and for not killing me for the delay  J


	6. Heart Revealed

A/N: I've decided to just do this chapter from Celegorm's perspective. It shouldn't affect the length much, and the next chapter will just be Mireloth's view.

Celegorm admitted to himself that he was ill prepared for this night. Most women regarded all of Feanor's children with fear and loathing, with good reason. None would openly show it, for fear of the wrath of the middle sons. Ladies would simply stay away from Celegorm as they did in the past. Celegorm wondered if Mireloth detested him, accepting his invitation only out of fear. He doubted it. If Mireloth did strongly dislike him, she hid it very well. No, she had acted more like a giddy maiden when she accepted. She would not be so happy if she learned of his past deeds. When Mireloth did, she would likely reject Celegorm outright.

Celegorm felt the bitterness rise in his throat again. Where would he be if he had not taken that damned Oath? _I would be home_, he thought, _I would be wed, have children, and not have to see my brothers and friends torn by swords and axes every day. _Celegorm had long since given up hope of joy in Arda. No, he would take what pleasure and comfort he could, if any was to be found. Celegorm knew that Eldar were not meant to be alone. He thought back to his mother, who he had often turned to for counsel in happier times. "Everything happens for a reason, Tyelkormo. Sometimes Eru makes the reason clear, more often not. Every deed, word, and emotion has some sort of purpose." Nerdanel had often said this to her third son when Feanor punished him for some obscure reason. She understood his heart more than any other, even Maedhros. Even if his mother was gone from him, her words gave Celegorm hope. Something had placed Mireloth in his path, for good or ill. Celegorm would follow fate where it took him, to whatever end.

Celegorm went to the place where his brothers were relaxing before their meal. To his relief, the twins made some attempt at looking presentable, changing into less grime-laden clothes and taming their unruly red hair. "You are going to escort our guest here?" asked Maglor.

"I am. Will everything be ready when we return?" replied Celegorm.

"It will. Don't worry, brother, all of us will conduct ourselves as princes of the Noldor," said Maglor, shooting a pointed look at the twins.

Celegorm managed a chuckle, and left to escort his lady. There was only a short distance between the Feanorians' tent and the healers' area. Celegorm was surprised to see Mireloth already waiting for him. She was quite fetching, in that pale blue gown and simple pendant. Celegorm offered his arm, and she accepted. To fill the uncomfortable silence, Celegorm said the first thing that came to mind. "You look lovely tonight."

"As do you, Lord Celegorm," she replied, a little shakily.

_She's just as nervous as I am_, Celegorm thought. Celegorm felt Mireloth stiffen slightly when they entered the Feanorians' tent. Clearly, she was unused to the presence of so many males outside of a healing tent. Maedhros welcomed her, and bid her sit between Celegorm and Maglor. Celegorm worried that Mireloth would be too intimidated by the rest of his unruly family to say anything to any of them, but he was proven wrong. As soon as Mireloth got over her initial shyness, she readily joined the Noldor lords in conversation.

"Just out of curiosity, Lady Mireloth, how many of us have you had to patch up after a battle?" asked Maglor.

"Two, I believe. Yourself, and Lord Curufin," replied Mireloth.

"And she did a most excellent job. I can actually work at the forge again without pain," said Curufin.

"Well, getting burned was your own bloody fault. Most of us wouldn't try to spear a dragon while standing right in front of it," joked Amrod.

"Forgive me for trying to be valiant."

Mireloth was even speaking to him without any hint of fear, which sent a long- missed feeling coursing through him: happiness. His elation vanished, however, when the twins proposed a toast over dessert. "To Lady Mireloth, the jewel of our brother's heart." Surely Mireloth would despise him now. What lady would accept a son of Feanor? Celegorm glanced over to Mireloth, who was looking at him strangely. "Jewel of your heart?" she whispered. Celegorm could not force himself to meet her eyes. Maedhros noticed his reaction, and gave the twins an icy glare. Celegorm wanted to get out of the tent as soon as possible. "Lady Mireloth? Would you join me outside for a moment?" he said, keeping his voice low. Mireloth nodded, and followed Celegorm out of the tent, into the more open area behind the tent. As soon as they were out of earshot of the rest of Celegorm's family, he stopped. Celegorm could not meet Mireloth's eyes when he spoke. "Forgive my brothers if they offended you. They rarely know how to restrain themselves around ladies."

"I was not offended. In fact, to know that you and your family think so highly of me…" Mireloth paused, as if unsure of how to continue. "Did your brothers speak the truth? Is that how you hold me in your heart?"

"It is."

Celegorm immediately wished he had not said that. He had never been good at admitting things, especially matters of the heart. When he could find it within himself to look Mireloth in the face, he found the same look that she had given him back in the tent. "You are not angry?" he asked.

"Not…angry. Confused, perhaps," she replied.

"Then you will not reject me?"

"No. But nor will I accept you. You still frighten me, Lord Celegorm."

"Then allow me to make amends for my actions. What must I do to regain what I so rashly destroyed?"

"Nothing. This is not something I wish to think about now."

"I will leave you in peace, if that is what you wish. Much as it would pain me to do so," sighed Celegorm.

Mireloth shook her head. "I must be getting back to Avarion. He is probably worrying about me now."

Celegorm offered to escort Mireloth back, but she refused, saying she would be fine on her own. Celegorm watched her go until she was out of sight. Then he sat down in the cool grass, brooding over what Mireloth had said. _So this is what my rashness has cost me,_ he thought. Perhaps he should just give it up, and try to get through life knowing what he had lost. He knew in his heart that he could not. Curufin came and sat down beside him. One look at Celegorm's face told the whole story. "It didn't go well, did it?" he asked.

"Not in the least," replied Celegorm.

"Look, you made a mistake. A big one. And now you are paying for it."

"Why are you acting like Maedhros? I don't need another father."

"Do you love the girl?"

"With all my heart."

"Than do all that you can to win her, even if it takes until the end of Arda itself. And, I think I could help you in that area."

Celegorm regarded his brother with more than a little curiosity. "How so?"

"Just come with me. I have an idea."

Celegorm broke into a grin. Perhaps his cause was not entirely lost.

A/N: Man, what started as a little editing evolved into this monster. Forgive me for the poor quality of the last version…it will be the last time I ever rush through a post.


	7. Misunderstood Intent

Hunter's Jewel Chapter 7

Mireloth was more overwrought than she had ever been in her life. Celegorm's words had shaken her terribly, and were made all the worse because some part of her wished to return his feelings. _He asks me to love him_, she thought, _but how can I do so after what he has done?_ When Avarion found her in the tent, she was sitting on a small stool, on the verge of tears. "Mireloth?" he asked softly. When he saw that the tears had spilled over, his voice took on a harder edge. "What did he do to you?"

"He did nothing, Avarion. He and his brothers were very kind to me," Mireloth replied.

"Then why are you crying?"

"He…" Mireloth paused for a moment, then burst into fresh tears. "How could he ask this of me? How could he ask me to give him my heart, when I know what he has done? How could I love someone who has no misgivings about committing murder?"

Avarion considered Mireloth's words, as well as her grief. He chose his next words very carefully. "Do you know what Lord Celegorm and his brothers are bound by? None of them can rest until the Silmarils are recovered. And, no, they are not the soulless creatures you believe them to be. Each death on behalf of those jewels weighs on them."

"What am I to do now?" whispered Mireloth through her tears.

"This is your choice, Mireloth. I can only offer you counsel."

"Thank you, Avarion. For all you have done for me."

Avarion smiled. "You are as much a daughter to me as my own children. Come, we must get to work. I have a feeling this is going to be another unpleasant day."

Avarion was not too far off the mark with his prediction. Not only was that day horrible, but so were the next three. Mireloth had never seen so many wounded, and the worst was supposedly still to come. Even the most experienced healers were driven to near distraction by the sheer number of casualties. Worse, supplies were running low. Healers were now forced to wash and reuse bandages rather than burning them. Mireloth barely gave a thought to Celegorm in those frantic days. However, it was not to last. On the fifth night, a visitor called. Mireloth was nearly asleep from exhaustion, something rarely seen in the Eldar. Avarion was sufficiently awake to greet their guest. "Lord Maglor, what brings you to this Valar forsaken place?" he asked.

"I bring a gift for the Lady Mireloth, as well as the greetings of the House of Feanor.'

Hearing this, Mireloth staggered to her feet. "Lord Maglor? Forgive us, we were not…"

"It is I who should beg forgiveness for my intrusion. Please, accept this gift from my brother, Celegorm."

Mireloth accepted the exquisite wooden box that Maglor handed her. Maglor took his leave, instructing Mireloth to wait until he was gone to open the box. Mireloth was puzzled, but agreed. Within seconds after Maglor left, Avarion motioned for Mireloth to open the box. Mireloth nearly dropped the gift in shock when she did. Resting on a delicate silver chain was a rose, carved out of a blood-red ruby. "By Varda Elentari…" Mireloth gasped. Avarion was equally stunned. "Well," he said slowly, " why don't you put it on?" Mireloth's hands were shaking too much for that task, so Avarion removed the necklace from the box and clasped it around Mireloth's neck. The effect was stunning, like fresh blood on new snow. "I had heard that the Noldor were the greatest of all the Eldar in the art of gemcraft. I believe it now," said Avarion.

"Why did he do this?" Mireloth wondered aloud.

"I think we both know the answer to that, Mireloth. At the very least, you must thank him for this gift, even if you do not desire his attentions."

"Yes, yes, I must. I will do so now.'

Mireloth abruptly left the tent, leaving an amused Avarion behind. _She reminds me of my wife when I first courted her_, he thought.

Mireloth could not fathom why she was even going to thank Celegorm for his gift. The last thing she wanted was to see him again. Still, politeness demanded her going to the Feanorian's tent. The first people she saw were Amrod and Amras loitering outside. "Ah, Lady Mireloth! How do you fare on this Valar-forsaken day?" Amras greeted her.  
"Well enough, my lords, thank you." Mireloth replied softly.

"You are here to see out brother?"

"If it would not trouble you, my lords."

"On the contrary, it would be a pleasure. Celegorm has been driving us all to distraction with his moodiness."

Amrod, who was still sitting on the ground, leaned over to the tent opening and shouted Celegorm's name. Mireloth shifted uncomfortably when Celegorm's voice issued from inside the tent. "Amras, Amrod, there had better be a very good reason for disturbing me at this hour."

"There is. Just come out," replied Amrod.

Celegorm uttered a string of unpleasant words, all directed at the twins. Amras looked at Mireloth, and rolled his eyes skyward. Celegorm finally emerged from the tent. "Now, why is it you two are disturbing me? Oh, Lady Mireloth! Forgive me, I was not expecting visitors." Mireloth barely registered what Celegorm had said. Celegorm must have been relaxing prior to Mireloth's arrival, and his state of dress proved it. _I had thought he was only fair of face_, thought Mireloth. Mireloth was eventually able to tear her eyes away from Celegorm's slender, but muscular torso. Mireloth's discomfort only grew when Celegorm came closer to her. "Lady Mireloth? Are you all right?" he asked. Mireloth was only able to nod silently. Neither of them noticed Amras until he tapped Celegorm on the shoulder. "You may want to put this on before being in the company of a lady, my brother. Forgive him, please, Lady Mireloth. He always has been somewhat absentminded," Amras said with a grin.

"Would you two please leave?" barked Celegorm, while slipping on the shirt Amras had given him. The twins barely contained their laughter as they complied. Mireloth found their attitude infectious, but was trying to hide her smile. When she finally found the courage to raise her eyes, she found the same amusement shone in Celegorm's face. Mireloth spoke first. "Lord Celegorm, I wish to thank you for your generous and beautiful gift, but I cannot…" Mireloth trailed off, not wanting to rouse Celegorm's uncertain temper. "You cannot accept it?" supplied Celegorm. Mireloth nodded mutely.  
"Of course you can, and you will. Unless you would disobey a Noldorin prince."

"No, never, my lord. I just do not understand your actions."

"I see. You mistrust my intentions. You think I would take you as a plaything, then discard you when I became bored?"

"No…"

"Do you think that a descendent of Finwe, or any Elda, could be that base?"

"My lord, please!" cried Mireloth, becoming more and more frightened by Celegorm's tone.

"I know I have a foul temper, Mireloth, indeed, perhaps the foulest of any of our people, but I will be twice damned if I ever harm you again."  
Mireloth was now aware that Celegorm had drawn closer to her. Celegorm's seeming anger had cooled, but the look that replaced it frightened Mireloth even more. There was an intensity in his eyes she had never seen in anyone before. "What must I do to prove myself to you, Mireloth? Tell me, and I will do whatever you ask."

"Nothing. There is nothing you can do, my lord."

"But I believe that there is," whispered Celegorm, "if you would allow me to."

Celegorm closed the small distance between them, and placed his arm around Mireloth's waist. It was like being gripped by a band of steel, but not nearly as cold. With his free hand Celegorm lifted Mireloth's face to his. _So this is what he wants,_ thought Mireloth. It would be so easy to give in, to allow Celegorm to kiss her, but it would not stop there. Mireloth's rational mind screamed for her to resist, and she barely heeded that call. She tore herself out of Celegorm's grasp, and was ready to run as quickly as she could to get away from him. Something in Celegorm's eyes stopped her. Anguish, she saw, followed by dull acceptance_. I cannot accept him_, Mireloth told herself, _I simply cannot. _Mireloth tried to unclasp the necklace to return it to Celegorm. "No, Mireloth. It was a gift," he said softly. Mireloth could see that Celegorm was fighting to keep his voice and features calm. "I'll not trouble you again, Mireloth. Farewell." Celegorm retreated to his brother's tent before Mireloth could reply. Mireloth saw no reason to linger either. _You got what you wanted_, she thought, _for he will most assuredly stay out of your life now. _Never had such thoughts entered Mireloth's mind, and she was shocked at their coldness. It was only then when she realized what she had done. She had only intended to cool Celegorm's feelings toward her. Instead, she had likely destroyed what little hope and happiness that remained to him. _Valar forgive me_, she thought, _I am worse than he_.


	8. Loss

**Hunter's Jewel Chapter 8**

Maedhros suspected things had not gone well between Celegorm and Mireloth. He had seen Celegorm walk past him, without so much as a glance, to a smaller, more private chamber. Seeing Celegorm in a rage would have disquieted Maedhros less. "We shouldn't leave him alone when he's like this," said a quiet voice behind Maedhros. Startled, Maedhros whirled in his seat, only to see it was Maglor who had spoken. "Maglor, you have got to stop sneaking up on me like that," said Maedhros as he recovered from his shock.

"Forgive me, brother. I often forget how silent my step is," said Maglor with a hint of a smile.

"You think we should go to him?"

"Do you trust Celegorm not to do something foolish right now?"

That settled it. Both brothers walked quietly to Celegorm's part of the tent. Both were more than a little unnerved by the sight that greeted them. Celegorm was stretched out on the ground, absently tossing his hunting knife in the air. "Are you going to come in, or are you two just going to stand there gaping at me?" asked Celegorm. Maedhros and Maglor obliged, but both were more than a little concerned by Celegorm's seeming calmness. "Are you alright?" asked Maedhros cautiously.

"Perfectly. Just relaxing, brother," Celegorm replied tonelessly.

"Stop that, Celegorm."

"Stop what?"

"That blade. Stop tossing it."

"Perhaps I enjoy this activity, Maedhros."

Maedhros refused to take this for an answer. Quick as light he snatched the knife from the air. The response this provoked from Celegorm was nothing short of terrifying. Celegorm leapt up and threw himself at Maedhros, who had no reason to expect a response so vicious, and he failed to get out of Celegorm's path quickly enough. It took all of Maglor's considerable strength to pull the younger brother off the elder. Then the unthinkable happened. Silent, gentle Maglor, who had never raised his voice in his life, began shouting at Celegorm. "Control yourself! Do you think you are the only one in Arda who has known pain?"

"What, Maglor? Did you lose the one thing you could have treasured?"

Celegorm could have gone on, but suddenly remembered what Maglor had lost upon leaving Valinor: his own lady. Celegorm realized the cruelty of what he just said. "Maglor, forgive me…I…"Celegorm stopped there, and collapsed onto a chair. Both of his elder brothers were immediately by his side. Celegorm found their mere presence comforting. "I am sorry. Neither of you deserved that," he whispered.

"It doesn't matter. In any case, I'm not hurt, you just gave me quite a shock," said Maedhros.

"We've all suffered, Celegorm. Sometimes I wonder if we really deserve it," said Maglor.

"It is not for us to judge," said Maedhros.

All three were silent for a few moments. In their hearts, all three knew they would never truly know peace while in Arda. All they could achieve was some small measure of comfort, wherever they may find it. Celegorm was the next to speak. "Do you ever regret it, Maglor? Leaving her?"

"Not a day goes by when I don't regret it. Sometimes I wonder if she does," replied Maglor.

"Is this how we are to spend the rest of our lives? In regret and loneliness? Surely our deeds have not been so horrible as to earn a lifetime of punishment?"

"They are, Celegorm. We have murdered, stolen, and betrayed those we should have held dear. These are not exactly commendable actions."

"Celegorm, you cannot afford to dwell on this. We engage the orcs again tomorrow, you need to be clear headed," added Maedhros.

"I will be, Maedhros. I will be."

Neither Maedhros nor Maglor seemed convinced. Still, they left Celegorm alone. There was not much use talking to Celegorm when his mind was on something.

Celegorm got no rest that night. All he could think about was Mireloth's rejection. What good was it being a Noldorin prince if he could not even enjoy the simple pleasure of a lady's love? Could he, or any of his brothers, find peace here? _The Oath_, Celegorm thought, _that damned Oath will haunt me until the end of my days. And still I fight for it. I've killed innocents and orcs alike, all in the Oath's name. That poor girl at Alqualonde…_

Celegorm wanted none of that particular memory, but it came anyway. He had just killed a young mariner who had been foolish enough to raise a blade against him. He had heard an agonized cry behind him, and turned to see a maiden. She rushed to the body of the dead mariner, sobbing. Where the small fishing knife had come from Celegorm didn't know, nor did he care to find out. When the girl had lunged at him he had run her through the chest with his sword. Celegorm could have simple disarmed her, but bloodlust had taken him. He barely spared the girl a glance as she collapsed onto the body of her beloved. Celegorm knew that the girl's dying, accusing stare would haunt him forever. Not only a Kinslayer am I, but a murderer as well. How could he blame Mireloth for her rejection, when surely she deserved far better than he.

Celegorm held no anger toward Mireloth as he readied himself for battle. He put on his fine Noldorin mail, wrought by his brother Curufin's own hand. His sword, forged by his father. His bracers and knife, created by himself. How easy it was to protect one's body, when the heart required an entirely different kind of armor, the kind only the coldest and hardest few could create. If not her, than no one. She would have yet one more token of his love, whether she accepted it or not. Celegorm took off his ring, pale silver set with an ocean hued sapphire. Around the gem was set the crest of his house. Celegorm felt it would only hinder him in battle. Better Mireloth to have it this day than me.

Celegorm met his brother's outside their tent. Only four were there. "Who is missing?" asked Celegorm.

"Take a guess," growled Caranthir, "you know if one of the twins is late, the other will be as well."

"Well, as long as we are waiting, I need to do something. I'll be back shortly."

Maedhros acknowledged that, and Celegorm went off to Avarion's tent. He had no clue what he was going to say to either Mireloth or Avarion. When he entered the tent, only Avarion was there, a sore disappointment. Avarion turned in surprise. "My Lord Celegorm? May I be of service?" he asked.

"Mireloth is not here?" replied Celegorm.

"No. She went to get some supplies. If you want to wait a few minutes…"

"I can't. If you could do me one service, and give this to her, I will be very grateful."

Celegorm gave Avarion the ring. Avarion, for his part, didn't know what to make of the situation. He only nodded, and accepted the ring. "I will tell her," he said. Celegorm gave Avarion a rueful smile, saying, "Tell her that I do love her, even if she wants none of me. I wish her only happiness, wherever she may find it." Celegorm abruptly left, leaving Avarion with his ring and the message. There was a battle to fight now.

In few places was Celegorm so at home than in a fight. It was a rush to him, being able to take down several opponents without even thinking about what he was doing. He fought for father, for brothers, for the jewels, and for his lady. Celegorm laughed as he scythed his way through the orc hoard, and didn't even feel the first sword blow that landed in his side. He simply fought on, mindlessly, caring about nothing, least of all his own life. The next well aimed thrust took him to his knees. This orc was huge, the biggest he ever saw. _So this is how I will end_, he thought grimly_, so be it. _ Celegorm was the better fighter by far, and soon the huge orc was no more. He felt someone behind him, and knew this could well be his end. It wasn't. Amrod and Amras were supporting him. "Come on, you're no good to us dead!" Amras shouted. Both of them dragged Celegorm off the battlefield to the healers. All three knew his wounds were grave. He needed a healer, immediately.


End file.
